


Always A Little More Left

by lizook12



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 19:59:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They finish righting themselves just as the door opens, treating them to a spectacular view of wine country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always A Little More Left

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a meme question from **spyglass** and has been languishing on my phone for ages until it decided to take over my brain this weekend. Much love to **effie214** for the feedback, title help, and putting up with my hysterics.
> 
> Title found in the Little Big Town song, _Sober_.

The car door closes swiftly behind them and he slides across the long seat, tucking the vineyard brochure (“Napa’s finest”) in the guide book as he settles next to her. 

He jolts forward as the driver starts down the long driveway, leaving the fourth winery of the day behind them quickly, and says a silent thank you that she was insistent on a limo.

Because while he’s sure they could have easily gotten themselves from place to place, it’s nice to not have responsibility on their shoulders for a change. 

To be able to just be in the moment. 

Willing to try anything from Zinfandel to wine-laced cheese. 

And they—she—deserves nothing less. 

The curving roads are mostly empty and he settles back against the seat, wonders how far it is to the fifth (and last) scheduled tasting. 

He can tell Felicity’s beginning to feel it a little despite the multiple bottles of water and several snacks she’s piled into their tote bag. She keeps pressing her knee to his, letting her hands wander across his shoulders, up the nape of his neck and back down again. 

It makes it hard to care that their driver might notice, especially with the way the sunlight through the windows keeps catching in her hair, how her breath whispers over his jaw as she sighs against him.    

Still...

She’s driving him crazy. 

All the light touches, the laughter that feels more like gasps of pleasure. 

He’s sure it’s nothing Jacques hasn’t seen before, but this is his wife and—he groans as her hand skates down his chest, cups him through his pants—he can barely think beyond needing to feel her skin. 

Watch her fly apart. 

Turning his back to the partition, he angles his body just so, slowly, tortuously pushing the skirt of her dress up. 

Her hands are on his face then, pulling him down to her, and he smiles against her as his fingers brush up her ankle, stroke over the back of her knee. 

Deepening the kiss, he begins tracing figures across the inside of her thigh, drawing soft circles higher and higher until his palm flattens on her skin and starts moving back down her leg. 

Grinning, he caresses her knee and—

Their eyes meet, hers narrowing dangerously, and there’s no denying it. 

Her. 

He leans forward, his mouth covering hers once more as his hands roughly push her panties to the side before cupping her gently, his fingers sliding into her welcoming heat. 

She gasps softly against him, head tipping back as he slowly begins to move. 

It’s not slow for long. 

They’re so attuned to each other that the slightest shift—the corners of his eyes crinkling just so, the slight tilt of her head—is easily detected.

Understood.  

Pushing up on her elbows, she kisses him. 

Hot and hungry, their tongues echoing the rhythm he’s setting. 

It’s too much, heat and happiness and _ohfuckyes_ , and she runs her fingers through his hair, lifts her leg and—

Laughs into his shoulder as her shoe thuds to the floor. 

It takes him a minute to realize what’s happened and then his chest is vibrating against hers, his teeth scraping across her skin as he touches and tastes. 

She moans into him, her hips lifting to meet his sure strokes, the rocking of his hand, driving her higher and higher. 

His thumb brushes over her clit lightly at first and then a little harder... harder..., the counter point to his strong arm cushioning her on the seat, his mouth gently teasing hers.  

Pressing his forehead to hers, he inhales sharply, his eyes slamming shut as he loses his tempo for a long moment and then... 

Then he’s drawing circles once more, only this time they’re tight, small ones between her legs as he pumps into her faster and faster and—

Her fingers flex on his shoulders, teeth tug at his lower lip as her tightens around him and comes, pleasure rocking her. 

Grinning, he sucks at her throat, curves his hand against her once, twice, more before carefully smoothing her skirt, his lips lazily drifting down the curve of her neck, the slope of her shoulder, as he eases her down. 

She’s just about to drift off when the car rolls to a stop and Jacques climbs out. Quickly, they finish righting themselves, her shoe just sliding back into place as the door opens, treating them to a spectacular view of wine country. 

The driver is already back behind the wheel by the time they’ve gathered their things and slid out, surveying the beautiful setting of Artesa Vineyards. 

“I think we missed our last tasting.” 

“I think they’re closed.” She laughs lightly and glances back at him, her eyebrow lifting. “It’s ok though.” 

“More than ok.” He walks towards her, caging her in against the car, row after row of vines in front of and behind them. “I’m sure their wine isn’t nearly as delicious...” 

Her mouth turns up and he closes the small space between them, kissing the red mark he left along her jaw, the corner of her mouth, and—as she snakes her arm under his coat and leans into him—smiles into the sunset. 


End file.
